I Have Fallen and I Can't Get Up!
by Disturber of the Peas
Summary: Legolas has fallen in the mud! Oh, what shall he do?! What will his FRIENDS do?? A story with a moral, only rated PG because there's one swear word in it and I couldn't stand writing something rated G.


Once upon a timmmmmmmmmmmme, in the midst of a really quite ugly forest, (unless you enjoy gloom) there lived an elf. Well, more than one, actually. But this story is about one elf in particular, named Legolas. One day, he was walking along in the gloomy forest, looking majestic and handsome (his favorite pastime) as he hummed a little song he'd heard at a funeral once, he tripped on a rock and fell in the mud, which did nothing to improve his attempt at looking majestic and handsome. Now we don't know exactly what this has to do with the rest of the story, but for those of you who enjoy useless trivia…corduroy pants catch fire if you run in them.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, 

Meanwhile, back at the castle of Mirkwood…

"Important Looking Elvish Attendant!" Legolas's father squeaked. "Where has my son gone to?"

"Well," the Important Looking Elvish Attendant said, "I do believe he is walking through the forest, looking majestic and handsome, which is his favorite pastime."

"Yes, yes…like father, like son…" Legolas's father squeaked out proudly. He was very small for an elf, and if he had been born a dog instead of an elf, he probably would have been one those small, annoying ankle-biters. Maybe a Chihuahua or a Pomeranian or a French poodle…but that's not the point.

But that is, however, the problem. This story has no point. We've been writing so far without a point, a purpose, or even an idea as to what we are doing. Of course, that's never stopped us before, and it won't. So there. You have to keep reading this little work of horror.

Legolas's father, of course, hadn't stopped talking to be polite while we had our little soliloquy, so he continued; "Why don't we go and join him in looking majestic and handsome, which is also my own favorite pastime?"

And so off they went, their hearts aflutter at the thought of looking both majestic and handsome at the same time. They also felt a bit of apprehension, hoping that they wouldn't mess up, the way certain humans are unable to walk and chew gum at the same time. And yet, also, they were filled with hope. Hope that if someone were to see the three of them walk by, that the person would point at Legolas with wonder and joy, but at one or the other of them. These feelings grew in them as they walked, but must of all, they felt the hope.

Suddenly, they stumbled (not so majestically or handsomely) upon Legolas. He was lying face-down in the mud, whimpering softly. At first, even his own father didn't recognize him. When he did, however…

"LEGOLAS!!! My son!! Who has done this most heinous crime to you?!?!"

Soft, muffled whimpering was heard from Legolas, but no words could be discerned from it.

"LEGOLAS!!!! WAKE UP!!!!!" His father was on the verge of hysterics, but somewhere within himself, he managed to find the strength to turn his son over.

Legolas's skin was a pale, unnatural hue (under the mud, anyways), and his nose was permanently wrinkled with distaste, or so it seemed. His listless eyes were wide open in horror, but it seemed as though he'd given up already. Mud was streaked across his oh-so-perfect nose, his oh-so-perfect cheeks, in his oh-so-perfect blonde hair, and it leaked out of his oh-so-perfect pointed elven ears.

Suddenly his eyes fluttered, and Legolas's father cried, "LEGOLAS!!!!! Are you alright?!?!"

"No, father…I'm…almost gone…"

"No!! No, Legolas, you can't be!!"

"There you go again, always telling me what I can or can't do!!" Legolas snapped. "Well, guess what? I _can_ die and I _will_!!!"

"Now, Leggy, that's no attitude to take…we'll get you home…clean you up…everything will be alright again…"

"Father…" *cough, cough* "…if I should die…" *hack, hack* "…please…remember…" *coughs up a lung* "…to submit my picture to _Teen Elf Magazine_, okay?"

"Don't talk like that, Leggy," his father replied softly. "You'll be just fine…" He hides the lung so Legolas can't see it.

"Promise me!" Legolas commanded.

"I promise, I promise!!!" his father sobbed. Then he turned to the Important Looking Elvish Attendant and snarled, "Don't just stand there! Get help!"

"But, sire," the ILEA argued, "if he dies, there will be less competition as to who's the most majestic and handsome!"

"Hm, you have a point…"

"Father!"

"You stay quiet while I'm discussing important diplomatic procedures like this!"

"But…"

"Leggy!"

*Sigh* "Yes, Father…"

"Thank you, Leggy," Legolas's father said, then turned back to the ILEA. "As you were saying…"

"Actually, sire, I was done."

"Oh. Ok then. What did you say?"

"Well, Sire, I'd tell you, but, um…I don't remember…"

"Oh, that's alright…happens to me all the time…Leggy? Leggy, are you alright???!!!!"

The attendant was all ready running, and Leggy's Father was having a hard time not running himself, for pooling on Legolas's chin was…drool, the horror of all elven lords-no, all elven people in general. Legolas was drooling. The reason why was unclear, but all the same, he was. Only Legolas himself knew, and he wasn't about to say and let his prize escape.

Legolas shoved his father aside and dove at the squirrel, catching it by the tail. He cuddled it close to his chest chanting, "Squirrelly, squirrelly, my squirrelly!!! Heeheehee!!!"

Legolas's father had, by this time, fled, so Legolas was quite alone with his prize. Or so he thought…

From out of the shadows stepped a man. "I've been tracking that squirrel for three days; you've no right to it."

"I CAUGHT IT!!!!! GO AWAY, ARAGORN!!!!"

"Legolas, don't get frantic," Aragorn replied. "Hey, you're covered in mud, did you know that?"

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," Aragorn said confusedly. "It's streaked across your oh-so-perfect nose, your oh-so-perfect cheeks, in your oh-so-perfect blonde hair, and it's leaking out of your oh-so-perfect pointed elven ears."

"Yeah, well…the same goes for you!" Legolas countered, and with that, he lobbed a glob of mud at Aragorn. Aragorn ignored it, however, as it splattered over his face.

"GIVE ME THE SQUIRREL!!!!!" Aragorn roared as he lunged at Legolas, and Legolas leapt out of the way. Too late.

Aragorn grabbed Legolas by the ankles and dragged him to the ground. The squirrel flew out of Legolas's grasp and landed with a soft thud on the ground, then quickly scampered away.

"MY SQUIRREL!!" Aragorn and Legolas yelled in unison, then continued speaking in this fashion: "YOUR squirrel?!?! Yes, MY squirrel!! IT'S NOT YOURS!!! YES IT IS!!!"

Aragorn threw the first punch, and, while Legolas reeled from the blow, gave him a swift kick in the shin. He then shot off like an arrow in the direction the squirrel had gone, while Legolas quickly and, not quite as gracefully as elves are expected to be, limped after Aragorn. Being the swift elf he was, Legolas quickly caught up with Aragorn, and shoved him sideways. Stumbling, Aragorn ran straight into a tree, while Legolas gained the lead and closed in on the furry woodland creature. The squirrel scampered across the forest floor, and, as Legolas was almost touching it's tail, another hand reached out and snatched the squirrel off the floor.

"ARAGO-Pippin?" Legolas said confusedly.

"A squirrel!" Pippin cried happily, ignoring Legolas.

"Hey, that's MINE!!!!!!!" Legolas and Aragorn (who had just freed himself from the tree's evil clutches-err, branches) cried in unison. Pippin sent them his best hobbit-filled kicked-puppy looks, and both Aragorn and Legolas reeled back.

"Oh no, that's not gonna work THIS time!" Aragorn cried.

"Yeah, that's mine!" Legolas said. *Pause* "Well, maybe we could give him just a little…"

"Well, I suppose…but just a little!"

Pippin upped the ante a bit.

"FINE!!!" Aragorn yelled. "Take it! Just take the damn squirrel!!"

Things should have ended right then and there - but to our disappointment, and probably yours as well, they didn't. 

For at that moment a hand reached out and took the squirrel from Pippin's clutches, and in the wink of an eye, well maybe two winks, the same hand (aided by a large, heavy, blunt object) knocked Aragorn, Legolas, and Pippin unconscious.

Arwen walked away quietly and said, "It's mine now. My own…my…precious…"

_Moral of the story: Don't let a squirrel ruin a good friendship._


End file.
